


Who Needs Pants?

by platonic_boner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Crack, Fluff, M/M, Public Nudity, Sexual Harassment, Star Wars References, World Naked Bike Ride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:44:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5213270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonic_boner/pseuds/platonic_boner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Cas or Dean rides a bike, one time they ride a tandem bike, and zero times the cyclist wears pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Needs Pants?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the hilariously real phenomenon of naked bike rides.

ONE

As soon as he'd finished ringing up a seven-year-old girl's first bike, and gotten her pinky promise to always wear her helmet, Dean hurried over to the only other customer in the little bike shop: a full-grown man who really ought to have known better than to be pulling a bright red bicycle off the wall.  He’d now begun riding it unsteadily through the store's narrow aisles, knocking a few gadgets off shelves as he went.

"Can I help you?" Dean asked loudly. Most of the time he liked working at The Bicycle Peddler’s: his main customers were adorable kids and environmentally conscious, respectful adults. It wasn’t exactly his dream job, but it paid well, which was what Dean was looking for since college was expensive and Sammy deserved the best. The only downside, really, was customers like this guy, who apparently thought being gorgeous gave him a free pass on being immature and annoying.

Not that Dean personally thought he was gorgeous, okay, just that probably everyone did and they let him get away with riding bikes indoors.

The man beamed and said, "I'm looking for something to ride."

Dean forced himself to keep his bright smile on as he took the handlebars away from the man. "For commuting? Mountain biking? What are you looking to do?"

“Right now I’m just looking for something fast and easy," the man said. He winked one startlingly blue eye. “Think you have anything like that?”

“Ummm,” said Dean, nearly knocking the man off the bike as he flailed slightly, and mentally upgrading the guy from menace to the bike shop to menace to his mental health.  “I’m sure I have a couple, um, bikes like that.”

The man grinned and gestured for Dean to show him. Dean led the way over to the city bikes, tripping over his own feet. The man caught Dean’s elbow, even though Dean had already recovered, and Dean glanced over his shoulder, locking eyes with the stranger.

“I’m Cas, by the way,” he said with a smirk. “And you’re Dean.” The glance at Dean’s nametag was followed by a much longer than necessary look at the rest of Dean’s body.

“And these are some bikes!!” Dean waved at the display in front of them. “These are all pretty speedy and good for beginners, so it just depends what style you like and ...yeah.”

“Oh, I’m not a beginner,” Cas said. “As for style… I’m looking for green, sturdy, a couple different speeds...” Dean was starting to wonder if he was really winking this often or if he maybe had an eye infection.

“Um, so, those would both… suit you, I guess,” Dean said, pointing to a couple of bikes on the wall. “This one’s a bit cheaper, but the darker green one has more shock absorbance and padding on the seat.”

Cas waggled his eyebrows and turned slightly, smacking his own ass. “Do I look like I need extra padding, Dean?” he demanded.

“Um,” Dean said, staring determinedly _not_ at Cas’ butt after one quick, _entirely_ accidental glance at it (that smack had been loud, okay?).

“I really don’t,” Cas insisted. “Here, feel.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Don’t be shy, just give it a smack.”

“I-”

“You might never get a chance like this again,” Cas wheedled.

“This is ridiculous,” Dean muttered, cheeks aflame because he was actually considering whether touching Cas’ butt was worth the man ceasing to annoy him.

Cas waggled his butt and that was something Dean never wanted to see again so, before he lost his nerve, he reached down and gently swatted Cas’s ass. (In retrospect, the gentleness made it even weirder and he should’ve just given it a good slap, instead of fucking caressing it.)

Cas laughed with delight and said, “See? No extra padding necessary.”

“Yeah.” Dean pulled himself together. “Yeah, all right, so you’ll take the other one?”

“Hmm?” Cas said. “Oh, right, the bike. Yes, the light green one please.”

Dean nodded and reached up to pull the bike off its hook on the wall. “Have you already got a helmet, or will you be buying one of those today too?” he asked.

“What’s that?” Cas said.

Dean turned to him to repeat himself as he put the bike down, but Cas drew his eyes up from Dean’s waist (Dean self-consciously fixed his shirt where it had ridden up) and said, “Aw, how sweet! I’m touched you care about my safety.”

Dean snorted and managed (to his pride) to retort, “Or maybe I get paid better the more money you spend.” He headed quickly towards the helmets in the front shelves. He was looking forward to getting this man out of the store so he could regain his dignity. ( _Why had he just touched his butt?_ )

“But there’s so many better things I could spend my money on,” Cas said as he followed Dean, and though Dean couldn’t see him he could imagine the wink.

“Any helmet preferences?” Dean asked, figuring that encouraging Cas was a bad idea.

“The rainbow one!” Cas exclaimed.

“With the unicorn on it?”

“Yes. That one.”

“Just so you know, it glows in the dark.”

Cas’ eyes lit up. “ _Even better_.”

Dean handed it over. “Try it on and make sure it fits,” he said.

Cas eagerly jammed the rainbow helmet on and did the straps up. “Fabulous!” he exclaimed.

“Awesome,” Dean said, with no small relief. He rang up the bike and the helmet, and accepted Cas’ credit card.

“Thank you for all your help, Dean. I’ll be sure to think of you while I’m riding him,” Cas said, patting his new bicycle.

“Yeah, uh, no problem.”

Cas was nearly out of the store, and Dean was practically melting in relief, when Cas turned and added, “By the way, do you know anywhere nearby I could find glow in the dark body paint?”

“The sex shop down the road probably has some,” Dean said automatically, and then realized what he’d said and turned bright red. “Um. Two blocks that way.”

“Thanks so much!” Cas exclaimed on his way out the door. Dean was incredibly happy to watch him leave. (But not like _that_ , just - fuck.)

***

Dean got drunk enough at the bar that night that he confided everything in Jo. She listened in wide-eyed silence, intermittently taking absent-minded sips of beer, as he talked about Cas, describing him as the guy who'd hit on him and whose butt - Jo leaned in to hear Dean's whisper - whose butt Dean had _tenderly caressed_.

Jo roared with laughter, but packed it in before a red-faced Dean had entirely decided to get to his feet and stomp out the door. She patted his arm in apology and sympathized with him until he calmed down; it didn't even occur to him that she was humouring him in order to get him to continue his story.

"... and then, when I thought he was gone, he asked me where he could find glow in the dark body paint!" Dean exclaimed, dramatically covering his face with his hands.

"And you said?" Jo asked.

"But imagine what he was going to do with it," Dean insisted, instead of answering her. "Do you think it was for him?? What do you think he was going to paint??"

Jo nodded. "Well, I hope he found some."

"I told him to go to that sex shop," Dean said, and Jo howled with laughter.

This time she laughed so long that Dean had had enough; he pushed himself to his feet and stalked out of the bar.

Jo caught up to him quickly enough because instead of storming down the street as intended (probably just until the next bar though), Dean stopped dead in the bar’s narrow doorway, staring. Jo bumped into his back with an “oof!” but Dean remained frozen until she shoved him, and he moved out of the way so they could stare at the spectacle together.

By “spectacle”, Dean meant “group of around six people, hooting and laughing and riding very nakedly down the street on bicycles, the closest of which…”

“Does he have a glowing unicorn helmet on?” Jo asked faintly.

He did. Dean had also noticed it, with a horrible sinking feeling. Still, he was startled by Jo’s question, because he didn’t understand why anyone would call attention to the helmet when it stood out so faintly in comparison to the strongly luminescent white arrows on the man’s stomach and both his thighs, all of which pointed towards a common target which, itself, was also very, very luminescent.

On second thought, focusing on the helmet would probably help everyone’s sanity.

Cas was standing up on the bicycle pedals and weaving in between the few cars that were crawling down the street, their drivers probably equally transfixed by the slowly waving, glowing - um. Dean decided to look anywhere but there, except when he tore his eyes away they, horrifyingly, met Cas’, and Cas’ lit up with recognition. _Fuck._

“DEAN!” Cas screamed, and the muscles in his thighs bunched as he powered closer to them. Dean turned, would’ve escaped back into the bar, but Jo was in his way and didn’t respond to his push. She was too busy staring and whispering a soft, “Oh my _God_.”

“Thanks for the body paint suggestion!” Cas yelled as he whizzed by them.

From behind they could see a smiley face painted on the cheeks of his butt.

Jo lost it.

 

TWO

A year and a half later, Dean had pretty much forgotten about Cas the Naked Bike Guy. He was reminded occasionally - it had been Jo's favourite story to tell for two full months. Even after everyone was sick of hearing about it, she'd text him pictures of guys with dark hair riding green bikes whenever she saw them. But mostly, the guy was just a memory.

That's not to say Dean didn't recognize him immediately when, upon his arrival at work one morning, he found upon the door of The Bicycle Peddler's a massive poster, picturing Cas naked except for the strategically placed rainbow unicorn helmet he was holding.

"What the hell," Dean breathed.

When he tore his eyes away to look at the rest of the poster, he found it was advertising the city's version of the world naked bike ride.

"What the _hell_ ," Dean said again.

It finally occurred to him that he was standing on the sidewalk staring at a picture of a  naked guy. Dean flung the door open and marched inside, averting his eyes from the door as he passed it.

Of course, that just meant he looked straight at the real-life (although fortunately clothed) Cas, who raised one eyebrow and asked, “Like the posters?”

On second thought, Dean wasn’t sure which was worse: naked picture Cas, or dressed real Cas?

Standing next to Cas was Dean’s boss and the owner of the bike shop, Gabriel. “ _I_ love them,” he exclaimed. “Cas and I were just discussing whether I should go completely naked or wear my turquoise rhinestone speedo. What do you think?”

Oh God. “I think,” Dean groused, “that I’m never going to get that image out of my head.”

Gabriel grinned at him. “You’re welcome for the masturbatory material. But which one?”

“For the good of everyone, Gabe, please keep your pants on,” Dean replied. (Because with his luck, he might actually run into this bike ride _again_ , and he did not want to see Gabriel’s _anything_.)

“Personally,” Cas said, “I find biking naked to be very pleasurable. I definitely think you should both consider it.”

“Absolutely not.” There was no _way_ Dean was riding a bike in public with all his junk hanging out. With a bunch of other guys with _their_ junk hanging out. Nope.

Gabriel grinned. “Well, I’m sure I could find you a matching speedo!”

Cas considered him, then said, “Or how about pink, lacy underwear?”

Dean turned bright red. “I’m not going on the bike ride! If you’ll excuse me, I have a broken bike chain to fix.”

“It’s your loss!” Gabriel called after him. “But I’ll send you pictures!”

***

Dean did his best to block the above incident, and all associated imagery, from his memory. Despite seeming like an excellent plan, this had one small disadvantage: Dean successfully forgot when the bike ride was actually taking place. So, one morning as Dean and Sam were leaving the diner where they’d gotten lunch, they were astonished by the hordes of scantily dressed riders passing by.

Sam paused with his hand on the Impala’s passenger side handle. “Hey, Dean,” he said, nodding towards a rider. “Is that…?”

Dean glanced over and instantly recognized the unicorn helmet. He could feel himself turning red as he replied, “Who? No.”

“It _is_ ,” Sam said gleefully, as Cas got closer. “I recognize him from Jo’s facebook.”

“ _What?_ ”

Sam got out his phone and started tapping away. “I’m telling her we saw your boyfriend.”

“Shut up, Sammy!”

“Is his lacy underwear getting you all flustered, Dean?”

“Shut up and get in the car!”

 

THREE

 

Dean knotted his tie and then immediately began tugging it off again. He didn't know how many times he'd changed his mind. The tie was looking abused and was nasty and sweaty from his hands.

Did you wear a tie on a date with another man? This was ridiculous, Dean regretted all the choices that had led him to this moment, and he picked up his phone to tell Charlie so, and to see if it was too late to cancel this shitshow.

This was entirely her fault, Dean reflected as the phone rang. He'd met Charlie through Sam, and she'd started hanging out with them, and suddenly over pie - pie! What sort of savage invited you to _pie_ only to defame you - she'd confronted him about liking guys. Dean had apparently given himself away by getting all blushy and stuttery around Charlie's friend Benny, who was all charming and ruggedly handsome, so Dean can't really be blamed for his transparency. Anyways, Charlie had forced him, through choosing a pie place that didn't do takeout, to discuss his feelings with her. He'd insisted he wasn't gay and she pointed out duh, but bisexuality was a thing, and it was okay to try things, and somehow Dean had ended up agreeing to try going on a date with her gay friend Benny who thought Dean was cute. ("Very attractive and manly!" Charlie had corrected quickly when Dean had glowered at that.) And that was what had brought Dean to his current situation.

"Sup?" Charlie said when she finally answered Dean's call.

Dean opened his mouth to tell her she had to call Benny for him and cancel because he was so not ready for this and probably never would be. Instead what came out was, "I don't know what to wear."

He could hear her grin over the phone. “What are our options?”

“Uh,” Dean said. “A leather jacket, a bunch of flannel, the suit I wore to my dad's funeral, and I think this is Sam's tie? It's purple.”

“Put the purple tie away,” Charlie said firmly. “How about jeans, a leather jacket, and that Led Zeppelin T-shirt you were wearing last weekend?”

Dean found the shirt, sniffed it, and said, “All right. Thanks, Charlie.”

“Good luck with your date!”

Dean had just finished putting on his pants when the doorbell rang. He scrambled gracelessly down the stairs and paused before opening the door to try to compose himself. When it became clear that was going to take much longer than a couple seconds, he opened the door anyways.

“Hey, Chief,” Benny said easily. He was, to Dean's relief, also dressed casually in a woolen pea coat and fisherman's cap. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Just lemme grab my keys.”

As Dean locked up, Benny commented, “Your car is beautiful. Is she a '67?”

Dean responded enthusiastically, and the car talk which this author cannot write lasted them all the way to the restaurant (the new steakhouse in town which Dean had been wanting to try). They shared nachos as an appetizer and somehow - Dean would like to pretend it hadn't been through his pretentious comments about how he could make better salsa than this - they ended up talking about family recipes and sharing cooking stories. (Dean's best story involved Sam, popcorn, and a blender; Benny laughed so hard that everyone around them turned to stare, and Dean didn't even care.)

Basically, the date went swimmingly. After dinner, Benny dropped him back at his house and walked him to the front step. Dean had thought this would feel weird, but it was actually really nice.

“Goodnight,” Benny said. “I'll call you?”

“Sure,” Dean said. “Goodnight.”

***

 

About six weeks later, they broke up when Benny got offered an amazing job halfway across the country. Dean consoled himself with an entire apple pie, topped with vanilla icecream, and with sitting on the couch watching Dr Sexy all day.

Sam wandered in at one point and snatched up the remote.

“Hey,” Dean snapped. “Did Jess dump you? No? Give it back.”

“There's an update on a case I'm following on the news,” Sam explained, changing channels. “I'll flip it back in a minute, and go buy you more icecream.”

“...Fine.”

The local news was just finishing a segment that had something to do with a bike race, or something. Dean wasn't paying attention until it flipped away from the image of people cycling by and went back to the news guy talking to someone with a very familiar face.

“...and this will be the third year in a row that Castiel Novak has organized the local Naked Bike Ride!”

The footage then flashed to a very familiar (although very blurred out) butt, and Dean flushed and refused to look at Sam, but he had to admit this was better than Dr Sexy.

 

FOUR

Dean’s week had started going wrong when the Impala’s transmission had given out on him. It put him out of a respectable method of transportation for the next few weeks until the parts he’d ordered got in. After too much griping about public transportation, Gabriel had lent him a bike to use to get around the city.

His week had just gotten worse from there. So maybe Dean could've exercised more; suddenly riding a bike to work and home every day made his legs and butt ache constantly. Also, it seemed like all the assholes were at his work that week. So, when Friday finally came around, he went out to a bar for a well-deserved break, and maybe to pick up a pretty girl. (Or maybe a pretty guy. These days, Dean wasn't really as discriminatory as he'd once been.)

Anyways, it had looked, briefly, like his luck was on the upswing. He'd met a cute guy who seemed relatively normal. They'd hit it off and the guy had tossed Dean's bike in the back of his truck and taken him back to his place. It had all seemed good and they were just about to do the sex, clothes off and everything, when the guy’s boyfriend had come back. They’d both totally flipped out, and in response, Dean had freaked out and ran and only realized as he was taking his bike off the back of the pick-up that he’d left all of his clothes behind.

He wasn’t going back to the guy’s apartment, though. The bike ride to his house couldn’t be _that_ long, right? And it wasn’t cold… well, it wasn’t freezing.

 

Dean found that the bike ride was actually pretty long, especially when you were trying to avoid all populated areas, and sometimes jumping into the bushes when you heard a car approaching. (Dean soon stopped this, having decided his dignity was worth much less than his junk when he jumped into a thorny bush. Despite how carefully he’d extricated himself, there was a massive scratch on his butt that stung like hell.)

Then a car slowed and stopped beside him, and he wondered whether his balls were really worth _this much_. He might’ve felt threatened, but it was a smart car, which was the least threatening thing he’d seen all day.

“Hello, Dean,” said a deep voice from inside the smart car, a voice Dean recognized despite not having heard it for over a year because it was burned into his memory.

Cas leaned across the front seat and stuck his head out the passenger side window - which he was able to do with ease, since it was, as mentioned, a smart car. Staring at Dean, he said gravely, “How the tables have turned.”

Dean belatedly thought to cover his junk.

“Are you heroically protesting the lack of safe bike lanes in this city, or would you like a ride home?” Cas asked.

“Uh, that would be great.” Dean held back a comment about riding in a smart car ruining his dignity even more than this accidental naked bike ride, because he really did want a ride home.

“I’ll put your bike on the rack for you,” Cas said, hopping out of his car and walking around to take the bike from Dean. “And, um… here. if you’d like,” he added, offering Dean his jacket.

“Thanks,” Dean said. He folded himself into the passenger seat of the smart car and draped the jacket over his lap.

“Where to?” Cas asked, after attaching the bike to the back of the car.

Dean gave directions, and they embarked on the most awkward journey of Dean’s life.

After way too much awkward silence, Cas cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he began, “how did you come to be in this situation?”

“I was with some random hook-up, and then the boyfriend barged in,” Dean explained. “He freaked out and kicked me out, and I freaked out and completely forgot my clothes.”

“Ah,” Cas said.

“I didn’t _realize_ he had a boyfriend,” Dean tried to defend himself.

“Ah!” Cas said again, eyebrows shooting up. “ _He_ ,” he said delightedly, under his breath. He then cleared his throat. “My apologies. I will attempt not to hit on you while you are at such a disadvantage.” He waved at Dean’s general lack of clothing as an explanation of what he meant by “disadvantage”.

Dean ignored the fact that he was actually _disappointed_ by this and replied, “Yeah, thanks, that’ll make this less awkward.”

“And I promise not to peek at your butt again.”

Fuck it. Dean winked. “Hey, don’t go making promises you can’t keep.”

Once he caught his breath after choking on his own spit, Cas gasped out, “Dean, you _rapscallion_.” He then laughed for four blocks and Dean had to make him turn around and come back to his street.

“This one,” Dean said, pointing to his house. The kitchen and living room lights were on - Sam must be getting a midnight snack. Good - his keys had been in his jeans, so they were long gone. He turned to Cas and held out his right hand to shake. “Thanks for the ride, man.”

“Er,” Cas said, looking up at the house. “Are you sure you want to go in?”

Dean frowned, dropped his hand, and followed Cas’ gaze. The curtains were closed, but there were now two very obvious silhouettes outlined on them, one female and one inhumanly large and male. Despite the fact that it was only outlines, it was very clear that Sam had taken advantage of Dean’s (apparently overly optimistic) announcement that he’d be gone all night, and that he and Jess were _doing it_ in all corners of the house.

Including, currently, a room he’d need to walk by to get to his bedroom.

“Shit,” Dean muttered.

“I would like to make it clear that this is not a sexual advance,” Cas said, with his hands facing out, peacefully, “as you are without refuge or pants, and even I have limits. However, if you would like to come home with me, I have a very large and comfortable couch, and some clothes that would be about two sizes too small, and therefore very attractive on you.”

“That _wasn’t_ a sexual advance?”

“No, I’m entirely serious about the couch. You are a dude in distress and I wouldn’t want to take advantage. Also, though you wouldn’t have guessed from the fact that I am performing a taxi service for naked men at three in the morning, I do have to be at work later this morning, so I can’t be having marathon sex right now.”

“Right, understandable,” Dean said, swallowing his disappointment. “That’d be great, Cas.”

“Wonderful! Onward we go!” Cas practically shouted, reversing his smart car back out of Dean’s tragically empty driveway. “I’m only about five minutes from here, so you won’t have a long ride of _any_ type in the morning.”

Dean blushed fiercely as he remembered the way he and Cas had met: “ _I’m looking for something to ride_.” Cas was really sort of obsessed with someone being ridden in this relationship, wasn’t he? The jacket on Dean’s lap suddenly felt much too small and he pulled on the edges to try and make it cover more of him.

After a few awkward minutes of Cas driving silently, Dean asked, “So what do you do, Cas?”

“Other than really hot dudes? I’m an environmental engineer.”

“That sounds cool.”

“It’s nearly as fun as working at a bike store, although for some reason I suspect you meet more cute boys in your line of work.” Cas winked audaciously.

“Nah, mostly conceited boys actually.”

“ _Rude_ ,” said Cas. “Well, I’m sure your customers have other good points?”

“…Excellent taste in men?” Dean suggested with a smirk.

“ _Clearly not_.” Cas cleared his throat haughtily, and then announced, “We’re here!” He pulled into the parking lot of a fairly new apartment building.

Dean awkwardly got out of the car, trying not to bang his head or flash his dick at any innocent bystanders. (He had come to the conclusion that his butt was a lost cause, because Cas’ jacket just couldn’t cover both of them. Hopefully there were no small children around at three in the morning. Also, at least it was a butt to be proud of.)

Cas punched in the key code to the apartment building and held the door for Dean. (Dean suspected he’d done it to get behind him and look at his butt. It wasn’t paranoia if he totally would do it in Cas’ place.)

“Up those stairs,” Cas whispered from behind him.

“You’re not smooth, Cas,” Dean whispered back.

“Whatever could you possibly mean?”

“I know you’re staring at my ass.”

“I am not. Now shhhh.”

“I am being quiet.”

“ _Not quiet enough_ ,” Cas hissed desperately, and then a door opened at the top of the stairs.

“Castiel?” The old lady came out to stand on the landing, wearing a pink robe and fluffy slippers. “Is that you?”

“Hi Loretta,” Cas said. “I was working late tonight. I’m sorry if we woke you.”

Loretta laughed. “ _Working_? That’s what you kids are calling it these days?”

“No, I really – ”

“Well you’ve _outdone_ yourself this time,” Loretta said, looking Dean over and making him _very very glad_ he hadn’t decided to move the jacket so Cas couldn’t stare at his butt.

“He _wishes_ ,” said Dean, who was sidling along the wall with his butt towards it and felt like he needed to save face somehow.

Cas grinned at him as he shoved his key into the lock and opened the door. Cas’ creepy old neighbour lady was still avidly watching and so Dean absolutely refused to turn and enter Cas’ apartment forwards, since he’d definitely flash her. Instead he backed in, tripped over what felt like a pair of shoes, and sprawled on the floor.

“Bye Loretta!” Cas shouted, jumping into the apartment and slamming the door behind him, which plunged them into darkness when the hallway light was blocked.

Dean hastened to fix the jacket to actually covering himself before Cas flipped on the light. Cas offered him a hand and pulled him to his feet.

“I _suppose_ I’d better fetch you something to wear,” Cas sighed. He disappeared into a doorway, and then returned moments later with folded green and white clothes. “The bathroom is just down that hallway if you’d like to change in there,” he said, handing the cotton pyjamas over to Dean.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said, squeezing Cas’ shoulder on the way by.

He was so happy to finally drop the jacket and cover his dick up with something a little more substantial that he didn’t even look at the pyjamas until after he’d put them on. When he glanced at the mirror, he snorted at Yoda’s face staring back at him from his chest.

“These are great pyjamas, Cas,” Dean said as he rejoined him in the living room.

Cas looked up, his eyes sparkling with delight as he very obviously checked Dean out. “Why, Dean, is that a lightsaber in your pocket or are you just _very_ happy to see me?”

Dean waggled his eyebrows and said, “Come find out, you could.”

“As I’ve mentioned, I would _love_ to -”

“I know,” Dean interjected smugly.

“-but I have to be at work in less than five hours, and that wouldn’t be long enough,” Cas  continued, shaking his head. “The responsibilities of adulthood are such a great disappointment.

“I hope you’ll find the couch comfortable. Goodnight!” Cas said, escaping to his bedroom.

 

FIVE

Two weeks later, Dean _still_ hadn’t figured out how to get in touch with Cas again. By the time he’d woken up the next morning in Cas’ apartment, Cas had been long gone. Dean had intended to leave his number and a note saying “call me ;)”, but then he realized that just like his pants and keys, his phone was on the floor at some random guy’s house. Dean wasn’t even 100% sure what the guy’s first name was, let alone his last, so he was probably never getting it back. So this had left him with no way to contact Cas.

Of course, they had a mutual friend, and in a perfect world where all adults acted like adults Dean could just ask Gabe for Cas’ number. However, given the circumstances (by which Dean meant Gabriel’s personality), Dean felt his refusal to do so was perfectly understandable. Gabe wouldn’t give up Cas’ number without demanding an explanation, and Dean couldn’t decide which of “because he’s really hot” and “because I need to return the pyjamas I borrowed” was worse, but he knew Gabe would make fun of him for both until the end of time.

So, Dean sulked around all day, and then he put on his new Yoda pyjamas and went to bed at night.

 ****  


Dean’s new phone rang at three in the morning. He snatched it up, trying to recall as he jabbed at the “answer” button whether Sammy was home and in bed, or out somewhere possibly dying.

“Hello?” he demanded.

“Deano!” said a horribly cheerful voice on the other end, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. Gabe continued, “I need a little favour.”

“At three in the morning?”

“Don’t be crazy! I wouldn’t ask you to do that! No, at four this afternoon, I just figured you’d want some advance notice.”

They were quiet for a minute as Gabriel basked in his joke and Dean seethed in fury.

“Just kidding! Right now,” Gabe said.

“Fuck off, Gabe.”

“Look, it’s just a teensy favour. I had a small bit of trouble with a lovely police officer who objected to my behaviour and I need someone to bail me out.”

Dean cast his eyes skyward and muttered, “ _Why me_.” It was really directed to no one but Gabriel chose to answer it anyways.

“Sorry Deano! Usually Cassie and I bail each other out, but he’s stuck in here with me.”

“Cas is with you?” Dean blurted.

“Yeah, we were preparing the route for the next bike ride, and it’s important to check for windy spots and so forth, you know…” Gabe paused. “Some reason you’re interested in Cassie?”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, okay?” Dean replied. He then hung up on Gabe singing, “Dean-o has a cru-ush, Dean-o has a cru-ush…”

 

In the short time it took Dean to fill out the forms to bail Gabe and Cas out, he bonded with the policewoman, a cheerful blonde named Donna, over how annoying Gabe was.

“They didn’t have a stitch on them, either,” she whispered conspiratorially to Dean. “I had to let them drag some stuff out of the lost and found, instead of letting them walk around with it all hanging out.”

Dean laughed. “I doubt you had Gabe’s size.”

“Oh, you don’t _even_ know,” she replied, eyes glazing over as she presumably remembered whatever horrible get-up Gabe had found.

Dean grinned and handed her the completed forms.

“Let’s go get ‘em out!” Donna said.

They headed down to the holding cells. Upon seeing them approach, Gabriel started banging on the bars. “Release me! I am an innocent, I was falsely accused!”

He was dressed in an oversized Hawaiian shirt, a pink miniskirt, and a _totally unnecessary_ cowboy hat. (Dean didn’t blame Donna for letting him keep it; he could imagine the tantrum Gabe would’ve thrown if it had been taken away.) Basically, Gabriel had made a completely ridiculous spectacle of himself, but Dean only glanced at him for a second before staring at the other man in the holding cell.

Cas’ outfit was simultaneously more and less appropriate than Gabe’s. More, in that _it didn’t involve a cowboy hat_ , and less, in that Dean felt it should get Cas arrested for public indecency _all over again_. He was wearing most of a spare police uniform, but it was at least two sizes too small for him and also probably a woman’s.

“What are you _wearing_?” Dean blurted out, because it was three thirty in the morning and coming up with pithy lines to hit on guys is hard at the best of times, let’s all have some sympathy for Dean.

“I know, right?” Donna said, as she unlocked the door and released the prisoners.

“Me?” Cas replied, to Donna’s confusion (because any _normal_ person would have been referring to Gabe). “What are _you_ wearing?” Cas demanded, and Dean looked down at himself.

Oops. He’d figured it was socially acceptable to wear his pyjamas to jail at three in the morning, but he’d forgotten to take into account _which_ pyjamas he was wearing.

“Hey,” Gabe said, glee dawning in his eyes, “Cassie, aren’t those _your_ -”

“So,” Dean interrupted, “need a ride home?”

“Yes!” Gabe said.

“Wasn’t talking to you.” Dean smirked down at him, and then turned to Cas.

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind…”

“I figure it’s only fair,” Dean said.

They said goodbye to Donna and left the police station together. Gabriel yelled after them that they were worthless friends and something about it being their fault if strange men harassed him because of his shapely legs, but they ignored him completely.

In the Impala, Dean turned to Cas before he lost his nerve, and bumbled, “Look, I really wanted to leave you my number before and ask you to call me, but I didn’t actually have a phone at the time because...well, you know… and … well, would you want to go out for dinner sometime? Together?”

“I’d love to,” Cas said, beaming. “It might be too soon to tell, but I think… Dean, I think Yoda one for me.”

 

+ONE

Three years later, to the day, Cas and Dean said “I do”. When they left the wedding amidst flying rice, it was not in a limo, or even in the Impala, but on a bright red two-seater bicycle. Jo had decked it out with rainbow streamers, a horn, and a “just married” sign on the back.

(When Cas had suggested it, Dean had said, “You’re going to ride a bike with pants on? That’ll be a first.” Cas had laughed and laughed.)

They circled around the wedding party. Cas, on the front of the bike, tooted the horn with gusto.

“Shall we go?” Dean asked, gesturing up the long driveway to the road.

“Away!” Cas yelled, and they began leaving the wedding to the cheers of their friends and family.

Then, to Dean’s confusion, Cas stopped pedalling and leaned over to fiddle with the leg of his tux.

“Is it caught or something?” Dean asked, slowing down.

Cas straightened up, ripping off his entire tux in one smooth motion so he was sitting on the bike in nothing but a pair of red boxers. The cheers behind them turned into hoots and catcalls.

Cas insisted on circling their friends one more time, and he threw his tear-away tux at Gabriel’s head. Then, finally, Cas and Dean and one pair of pants embarked on their journey together towards the rest of their lives.

THE END

 


End file.
